


Any Way the Wind Blows

by NoneTheWiser05



Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe, Biphobia, Bisexuality, Bullying, Coming Out, Heterosexual Sex, Homophobia, Homosexual Sex, Klaine Alternate Universe, M/M, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Sexual Confusion, Sexual Experimentation, bisexual!blaine, klaine AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-22
Updated: 2015-08-13
Packaged: 2018-03-14 15:29:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3415892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoneTheWiser05/pseuds/NoneTheWiser05
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first time Blaine ever heard the term 'bisexual,' he was completely disgusted by the concept of it. Little did he know, it is something that may just apply to him when he realizes he was - and always has been - attracted to men. </p>
<p>Kurt Hummel is a lonely transfer student who has been through a lot, and doesn't want to deal with the people and social constructs of high school anymore. It isn't until he joins Glee Club and befriends Blaine that he realizes his life could be so much more. It's really a shame that this guy is straight, though, right?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: If I owned Glee, shit would've gone down so much differently, if ya know what I mean.
> 
> Author's Note: *Waves* Hello, everyone! So, I (and a lot of other people as well, if I recall correctly) am sort of saddened by the bisexual "representation" on the show. Sure, there's Brittnay, who has been in positive relationships with both men and women, but they portray her as the 'school slut,' which is an unfair stereotype of bisexual people. I also disapprove of them not representing male bisexuals at all, especially when they insinuated that men can't be bisexual. And then there were people who basically thought that Blaine being bi was, like, the worst thing in the world, and that was kinda lame. And so I wondered, 'what if they actually had bisexual men?'
> 
> And so this bisexual!Blaine AU was born. And it's eventual Klaine, I swear! 
> 
> Blaine's story is actually based on my own coming out story, so many of the things that he is thinking and feeling are very closely related to personal experience.
> 
> I hope you read and enjoy! Comments and Kudos would be awesome!!

The first time that he had ever heard of bisexuality was at his musical theater program over the summer. His friend, Jeff, had told him that Freddie Mercury had been bi, and that he had basically admitted it in 'Bohemian Rhapsody' when he sung about the wind blowing any way and it not really mattering to him.

Blaine thought that that was the nastiest thing he had ever heard.

He hadn't really had any opinions on homosexuals; he knew that gay people existed, but he didn't personally know anyone who was, so he didn't think about it very much. But this bisexuality thing, that just sounded gross as hell. Like, who would have sex with anyone? Did bi people just have sex, like, all the time? Did they have no control over their impulses? That sounded ridiculously slutty, and that made him glad that he didn't know anyone who was bisexual; he wouldn't know what to say to them.

Now here he was, about four months later during the fall semester of his junior year at William McKinley High School, standing in front of his open, beige locker. He was staring at one of his closest friends, Brittany S. Pierce, clad in her red, white, and black cheerleading uniform, and she had just told him that she was bisexual. And he had no idea what to say to her.

Strangely enough, it was not because he was grossed out. On the contrary, he found that he was actually okay with it.

It was because he was starting to think that maybe he was bisexual, too.

But no, that couldn't be. The statistics on that were too low. Wasn't it only one out of ten people in a room were gay or something like that? Surely it was less than that for bi people, right? Which meant that he couldn't possibly be bisexual.

"Are…are you mad at me?" Brittany asked as she brushed a lock of her blonde hair behind her ear, startling Blaine from his impromptu trance.

Blaine shook his head to clear it. "No, no, of course not, Britt. I was just…that just surprised me is all."

Brittany let out a sigh, but grinned in relief. "Okay. Good. 'Cause you're really awesome and you not liking me being bi would be not awesome and it would make me sad if you weren't awesome anymore. So, I'm glad you're okay with it."

Blaine nodded, his dark, triangular eyebrows scrunched in confusion. He should be used to Brittany's fast paced, monotonous rants at this point, but his mind was still catching up. "Yeah. I, um…I'm glad you told me."

She smiled and nodded. "You bet," she said before waving and leaving him standing there, wondering what in the hell just happened.

*************************************************

Blaine sat back down at his desk after turning in his U.S. History exam. He reached into his light brown, leather messenger bag and pulled out a copy of 'The Hunger Games' loaned to him by his good friend, Wes. He turned to the page he had bookmarked, the Hufflepuff badger sticking up above yellow and black diagonal lines. Though before he could get lost in the world of Panem and discover how Katniss was going to try and defeat the Career Pack, his mind traveled to what occurred earlier with Brittany.

He knew that he liked girls. He definitely though about Emma Watson, Zoe Saldana, and Sofia Vergara the way that most guys did when they were alone in their bedrooms. He even had a girlfriend last year, and her mere presence had always made his chest flutter and his face hot. And Ellie had known him so well. Whether it be just a kind word of reassurance when he'd had a bad day or the way she brushed her hands over him when they lost their virginity to each other, she knew just what to do or say to make him feel good. Feel cared for. Feel loved.

However, it didn't completely surprise him when some senior jock asked her to go to prom, and she didn't even glance at him before saying yes. Ellie may have cared about him and even loved him, but that didn't mean that she wasn't shallow. Of course the lowly sophomore would rather be with the superstar senior from the football team than the short, nerdy musical theater geek. He should have seen it coming, charging in his direction before it barreled him over like a steamroller on asphalt.

He knew it was going to happen, but that didn't mean it wasn't a surprise, or that it didn't break his heart.

So, yes, he definitely did like girls. Without a shadow of a doubt.

Though now. Now he remembered this boy in his cabin from over the summer. His name was Matthew. He was tall with baggy brown hair and deep brown eyes. He was energetic and exciting and had a great sense of humor. Not to mention he was extremely talented.

Blaine had been drawn to him instantly.

He wanted to hang out with him all the time. He wanted to get to know him. Talk to him. Make him laugh. Find out all of his secrets and loves and hopes and dreams.

He wanted to touch him.

He wanted to cuddle with him.

And he was pretty sure that those were not thoughts that went through the minds of men who were completely heterosexual.

Or thoughts of how beautiful Johnny Depp looked when he had long hair and his eyes smoldered through the camera lens, staring into your soul. Or how cute Mario Lopez was when he smiled and his dimples showed. Or how hot Hugh Jackman looked without a shirt and his six pack glistened in the light. Or how much he loved the way Colin O'Donoghue's blue eyes sparkled when he spoke in his gorgeous Irish accent.

Yeah, he was sure if he asked his male friends if they ever had thoughts like that, they would probably think he was crazy…or, well, gay.

The bell sounded, interrupting his thoughts and startling Blaine with a jerk. His fellow classmates all around him were already getting up, the sounds of their chairs scraping against the tile, papers flipping or being scrunched into binders and backpacks. Blaine shook his head to clear it and started doing the same thing, closing his notebook and clicking his pen before putting everything in his satchel before standing and joining his classmates in the hallways.

It was the end of the school day, but he was a part of the New Directions, the glee club at William McKinley, and they had practice today. It was considered to be the lowest of the low on the caste system at this high school, but Blaine didn't care terribly much. He loved singing, and as much as he got bullied and called "fag" on a regular basis, that wouldn't stop him. All of his friends were in glee, and those were the only people that mattered. He gave no shits about anyone else. In about two years he'd be out of here anyway, probably in a school in New York where he could be in school to study music, and the bullies of McKinley would all be stuck here studying something like business economics or accounting or some other boring shit like that. One day they would be listening to his debut album—ranked at at least number 3, of course—and they would be telling their kids about how they used to go to school with him, and whenever they interviewed him about bullies in high school, they would listen to it and reflect and feel bad that he was talking about them.

That would show them.

And speak of the devil, the second he though that, he got a rough shoulder bump into a locker from some letterman jacket jock, the metal of the locker clanging loudly as he crashed into it, and heard the soft grunt of "fucking queer" from him.

He stared at the meathead for a second before rolling his eyes and mumbled "Jerk," before turning to his locker and spinning the lock with the appropriate combination before opening it. He pulled out his History text book from his bag and placed it on his red locker ladder before grabbing his Chemistry and Pre Calculus textbooks and his copy of Hamlet and cramming them into his bag.

"Hey, you okay?" he heard from his left as he grabbed his glee club music folder and slammed his locker shut.

He turned to the sound of the voice and saw his fellow glee club member, Mike Chang. The taller, older, Chinese boy looked down at him with concern.

Mike was a senior this year, and Blaine always liked him and admired him a lot. He was a very skilled dancer, and he was also on the football team. Not to mention he was ridiculously smart, really nice and funny, as well. Blaine was actually somewhat shy around him, intimidated by his general awesomeness. He always wanted to talk and hang out with him, but he felt inferior to him, and never knew what to say to him to impress him, or make him want to pay attention to him in any way.

So it came as a shock to him that he was acknowledging him now. And he certainly had no idea why.

Blaine shrugged, looking down to his brown leather moccasins. "Yeah," he sighed. "Not the first time that that's happened. It's like I'm used to it or something."

"You shouldn't have to be," Mike told him. "You should be able to roam the hallways of this school without having to worry about being assaulted on a daily basis. I mean, that's just insane!"

"Tell me about it," Blaine said. "But if I tell anyone, I'll be seen as even more of a pussy and probably get assaulted more, so I'd rather not."

Mike groaned in frustration. "That is so stupid. I mean, you're probably right, but it's so stupid," he said before adjusting his black backpack on his shoulder and dropping the arm holding his glee club folder to his leg. "Walk you to glee? Won't do much, but hopefully it'll help."

Blaine froze and felt an uncomfortable tingling in his chest. Mike had never done anything like that before, but if it gave Blaine the chance to talk to him, even if it was for the one minute walk to the choir room, he'd take it. "Yeah. Okay. Thanks," he nodded before turning to the direction of glee practice and walking with Mike.

The talked a little bit about music and glee and even comic books before they got to the entrance to the practice area.

"Oh, by the way," Mike said before reaching behind himself and unzipping his backpack. He reached into it and pulled out a clear, plastic bag decorated with cupcakes, candles and party hats. Inside it, Blaine could tell there were different kinds of candy. There was also a small piece of paper attached to the bag with blue and green ribbon. Mike handed it to him, and Blaine reached out and took it.

"What's this for?" Blaine wondered, as he peered in and could see Reese's cups, M&M's, and Starbursts. All types of candy that he enjoyed very much.

"Well, it's my birthday this weekend," Mike began to explain. "And I like it when people celebrate with me, not at me, so I like to get my friends presents so they can do that."

Blaine stared up at him, stunned. He knew that Mike was kind, but he never knew he was this sweet. "That's…so nice, Mike. Thank you."

"No, problem, man," Mike said as he gently placed his hand on his shoulder for a second before turning and entering the choir room. Blaine felt a jolt in his arm as Mike did that, and he swore his chest malfunctioned for a second, completely frozen in time.

Blaine then looked down at the bag of goodies Mike handed to him and lifted the piece of paper attached to it so he could read the note attached.

_Blaine, Thank you for existing and being special. It makes my special day that much more awesome! —Mike._

Blaine was sure that he was having a heart attack or something. He had never felt more appreciated and awesome and spectacular in all of his life. Mike noticed him! Mike thought about him! On his own time!

Mike thought he was special!

And it was with that thought that he realized.

Oh, no.

Oh, dear.

Oh, god.

Oh, CRAP!

He totally, completely, with no question about it whatsoever, had a massive, MASSIVE crush on Mike Chang.

And he was definitely, DEFINITELY bisexual.


	2. Chapter 2

Kurt Hummel sighed as he slammed his locker shut. He had just returned from the locker room after being slushied for the third time this week, his new light green peacoat now stained with Red Dye 4, and his previously perfectly styled hair was now wet and looking like he barely combed it through.

He didn't know what he expected when he decided to take time in his appearance this morning; Maybe because the week was almost over, the jocks would be in a good mood and forget about him while they were planning their homecoming parties filled with binge drinking and gratuitous dirty dancing. Maybe they were too busy thinking about a test that they had and would rather ponder that then take time out of their day to go to a gas station and waste their money on a sugary beverage that they weren't even going to drink.

Maybe, for once in his god damn life, Kurt Hummel could have just one freaking moment where he would not have to worry about being abused at the hands of people his own age in a place where he was supposed to learn about math and history, and not about what he should and should not do in order to not get assaulted that day.

It's been almost a month into his sophomore year of high school and he was already beyond done with it. He transferred to William McKinley at the beginning of the year and it was marginally better than his old school, but that was just because no one had resorted to hitting him with anything other than ice, sugar and food coloring thus far. Kurt bet himself it would only take about another few days before they began to smack his books out of his arms, and then probably another week or so for the dumpster tossing, tripping and locker shoves. Typical high school bully pranks was something that Kurt was no stranger to. He knew how they worked.

He wondered when the homophobic slurs would start, or if it would lead to further physical violence like it did at his old school.

The summer before his transfer, Kurt decided that he would try to conform as much as possible, keeping his eccentric and luxurious fashion choices to a minimum in public and having his school wardrobe resemble that of someone who did not take very much time into how they looked. Though, he couldn't do that too much; he would rather be caught dead before being found in a plain t-shirt and baggy jeans that were more expensive the more torn up and used they looked. That was just tacky and he had standards. Instead he decided on a light, wool, grey sweater that fastened in the front with bronze buttons, a white undershirt and black skinny jeans; classy and stylish, but average looking enough to barely get noticed.

He looked up at the red clock attached to the wall. Thankfully, he still had about a minute left before his next class despite having to take a crap ton of time to rinse slushy from his face and hair. He adjusted his textbook to fit in the crook of his left arm and began walking to his next class. It was French, and he could honestly say that he was enjoying it so far. He was very skilled at the language, and his instructor, Madam Bisset, actually knew what she was doing and challenged him.

It was like she knew he didn't have time for regular high school bullshit.

The thought had just passed through his mind when he felt a giant hand shoving his book out of his arms and it fell sideways, opening up and the notes that he kept in it flying out.

Well, that didn't take long, Kurt thought to himself as he heard a low chuckle and two hands slapping together. Just lost my own bet. He didn't even turn to the two bigger guys in the red McKinley High letterman jackets; he did not want to give them the satisfaction of a scared or even an angry glance from him. Those lowlifes did not need his acknowledgement.

Regardless, he let out an irritated sigh and briefly looked at the ceiling before kneeling down and starting to gather his papers. He had just picked up a couple of sheets before he noticed a dark skinned arm holding a couple pages of his notes.

"Here," a soft, sweet sounding feminine voice said to him. "You looked like you needed a hand,"

Kurt looked up at the face of this new person. He recognized her from his French class, but couldn't remember her name. She was black and plus sized, her face kind and her smile genuine, showing through in her deep brown eyes. She was clad in a purple t-shirt with a matching Grease style jacket, black denim jeans, and a black and white pin-striped trilby rested on her head.

She clearly needed to work on her wardrobe, but Kurt was not going to judge too hard as she was, at this point, the nicest person he has encountered at this school. And not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, Kurt reached out to retrieve the papers she still had clasped in her hands.

"Thanks," he said.

"No problem," she brushed him off. "No one else in this damn school has a kind enough heart or a second to spare, especially when it's homecoming season, so I figured helping out the new kid is good karma."

Kurt raised an eyebrow. "So helping me out is entirely for your own benefit? I'm touched," Kurt responded sarcastically.

"You know it, newbie. What goes around comes back around, right?" She responded, grin still on her face.

Kurt actually smiled at that and let out a chuckle. He liked this girl. Her being able to keep up with his sarcastic wit was definitely a sign that this person was someone to stick close to.

"I'm Mercedes. Jones," she told him and held out a hand.

He looked down at it before grasping it with his own. "Kurt. Kurt Hummel."

"I know. You're in my class. You're the kid that's, like, too good at French to be in our stupid level." Kurt laughed at that. "For reals, though, why didn't you take a higher one?" Mercedes asked as she continued to help him gather his fallen notebook papers.

Kurt shrugged as he finally collected them all and stuck them between the pages of his text. "I dunno," he began as they both rose from the ground. "Honestly, I'm actually probably not as good as you think I am at it. Hell, I'm probably not as good as I like to think I am. Besides, I'm only a sophomore, so there's a very limited number of class options for me," he explained as he walked with her to class. "I actually wanted to take choir and some other art classes, but my schedule is so full of other requirements that I don't really have time."

Mercedes looked at him, eyes widened and eyebrows peaked. "Wait, you sing?"

Kurt nodded. "Yeah…why?"

"Hmm, what's your vocal range?" Mercedes questioned.

"Countertenor."

Mercedes pondered him for a moment before nodding. "Yep, we could definitely use you. Not only do we not have enough guys, but we are also severely lacking in the sane people department."

"Come again?" Kurt wondered, his brain still about ten steps behind her thought process.

Mercedes reaches out to him. "You should join Glee club," she began. Kurt's eyebrow raised. "Seriously," Mercedes continued. "We lost people and we don't have enough to compete. Two graduated last year, three others dropped it to go back to football and Cheerios, and Puck got arrested and sent to juvie a few days ago. Don't ask," Mercedes rolled her eyes at Kurt's continued eyebrow stare. "We don't know either. Point is, we only have, like, 8 members now. We need 12. And you want to be in choir. It's the obvious solution."

Kurt looked down to the ground and shrugged. "I don't even know anyone," he told her as they entered their classroom—fortunately teacher-free for the moment—and despite their tardiness, managed to get desks relatively close to the back of the room.

"Oh, none of that, Kurt," she said as she brushed off his comment, bringing up a hand to stop further comment and plopping her books on the beige desktop and sitting in the red metallic chair. "You know me. And you'll get to know everyone and they'll become like family. A crazy, incestuous, dramatic family, but a family nonetheless."

Kurt responded by peeking up at her, raising another eyebrow as he, too, sat upon the uncomfortable, cold McKinley red seat. "You know, you're not really selling it very well right now."

She rolled her eyes and smacked him lightly. "Come on," she continued. "You like to sing, and we've never had someone with your vocal skills before so I think you'd get in easy. It's an extracurricular, so it won't conflict with your class schedule AND it would look good on college applications and stuff like that. Not to mention, a good gossip buddy…a requirement for dealing with show choir drama, if ya know what I mean. I don't even know how I get through rehearsals by myself sometimes."

Kurt chuckled while opening his spiral notebook and flipping though the pages. "You're STILL doing a terrible job at sales work, by the way. Seriously, never work retail; you'll get fired for losing business."

Now it was Mercedes turn to lift an eyebrow towards the top of her head. "So you'll do it?"

Kurt ceased his activity before turning to his new friend and scrunching his face in mock annoyance. He waited a beat before responding. "I'll think about it," he told her, turning back to his notes

"You're totally gonna do it," she replied, smirking smugly.

He turned to look to her, continuing to flip through the pages to find a blank one. "I said I'll THINK about it."

"Uh huh," she said, turning to her own notes. "Whatever you believe, sugar."

Kurt rolled his eyes, chortling softly and thinking, 'Yep, definitely going to keep this one around' before the bell rang and the teacher finally walked into the room.


	3. Chapter 3

Blaine tried. He tried so hard to pay attention to Rachel Berry prattle on about starting rehearsals for Glee competitions, but it was absolutely impossible to do while Mike Chang was sitting on the bench across from him. They were in the cafeteria at lunchtime, and he was guzzling down a blue Powerade. As a result of that, it was making his throat bob in such a way that caused Blaine's body react in ways that he never previously thought it would have when looking at another guy. This was quite new, and it was very, very distracting.

It was a couple days after he had come to the conclusion that he had feelings Mike, and he had yet to produce anything but a mumble and a one word sentence when Mike tried to talk to him. That didn't, however, stop Blaine from staring at him all the time like a creeper. But, really, how could he not? The way his lean, toned, flexible body moved when he danced made Blaine's breath catch. GOD, he LOVED it when Mike danced. He was a master at it, and made it look like he never had to take a lesson in his life. He was also just so kind, and usually offered him a smile or a wave whenever he saw him, and gave him the most wonderful compliments after he performed solos. It made his stomach flutter.

It was moments like that when Blaine wondered how he hadn't realized this crush before; he had ALWAYS felt like this around Mike. How could he possibly have missed this? Was it because he never thought about it that deeply until now? Did he just think it was an admiration thing and not a crush? He had no idea, but it all seemed so obvious now.

And Blaine had noticed that Mike was starting to be friendlier with him, talking to him and trying to get to know him better. Did that mean something? Did he secretly like him back? Or was it just the result of being a senior that Mike was doing this?

Of course that's what it is, you dummy! Blaine reprimanded himself. He's probably one hundred percent straight, just like everyone else at this school. Hell, probably just like everyone in Lima. Don't even contemplate the thought that he might not be, because you and him? Definitely never, ever going to happen. Blaine sighed, knowing that that was probably the case, but a guy could still hope, right?

Blaine suddenly felt a sharp, painful thing hit his right shin. "Ow!" he started as he turned in the direction in came from and saw his best friend, Sam Evans, who had clearly just kicked him, was giving him a look. "What?"

Sam gestured with his head diagonally toward Rachel, who stood now with her arms crossed over her chest, brows drawn and peeved, staring at Blaine.

She shook her head. "Honestly, Blaine, it's like you don't even care about going to Nationals this year. I know last year was different because we had—"

Blaine began to tune her out again. He did not have time for Glee drama when he was going through his own personal identity crisis.

Blaine had always been such a confident, caring and outgoing person, and people have told him that they loved how he was such a gentleman, chivalrous in every way possible. Girls generally fawned over him, and he had been told by many of his guy friends that they wished they were more like him. He got very good grades in school, and his charm oozed out of every pore, captivating and garnering the looks of even the Cheerios on an average day. His short but muscle-built frame, olive toned skin, and dark curly locks when only lightly gelled down made heads turn, and despite his outward modesty, it always made him feel awesome to know that people—more specifically girls—liked him. He loved it when people liked him.

But now. Now that he's come to this realization, he didn't know what to think of himself. Or of what other people would think of him if they knew. Instead of looking at him with a grin and a "hey!", would they glare or scrunch up their faces in disgust or anger? Instead of girls flirting and vying for his attention, would they laugh at him and gossip behind his back? Sure, he's already being called a 'fag,' 'homo,' or 'queer' on a daily basis, but now that he realized he sort of likes boys, would it be worse if he came out? If so, how much worse?

Should he even come out at all? What would everyone say? Maybe he could to people in Glee. They were pretty accepting. But could he come out to the Glee club without it getting out to the rest of the school? Then what would he do? He got bullied enough as it is.

Could he come out to his parents? The rest of his family? No, no his relatives couldn't know about this. They were all fairly conservative and he didn't even WANT to know what would happen if they knew.

Maybe he should just stop thinking about it. Yes, if he just stopped thinking about it and ignored it, then he wouldn't have to worry about what everyone else thought of him. He could do that. He could forget about these emotions roiling within him and just focus on school and trying to get into a good college so that he could get as far away from here as possible. Yeah, that worked. That'll work, right?

"…talk to Mr. Scheuster about songs for our duet for the rally."

Blaine caught the end of Rachel's sentence and it jolted him out of his internal panicked dilemma. "Wait, what?!"

"Homecoming, Blaine. The pep rally. To get new members for competitions. Have you been listening to me at all?"

Blaine blinked, still stunned. "Rachel, what are you talking about? What duet?"

She sighed. "As Senior Member and therefore Team Captain, it is my responsibility to recruit new people so we can go to Nationals this year. I've already talked to Mr. Scheuster and he agreed that we should do a performance for the Homecoming pep rally. Since Finn quit glee and went back to football," she paused in her rant, gulping and looking a little upset ant the words that just left her mouth. She shook her head, and her face return to normal. "I decided that we should do a duet together, and we should have a meeting to come up with a set list."

His eyebrows drew in confusion, and glanced to Mike before looking back to her. "But what about Mike?" he wondered. "He's actually a senior. You should do a duet with him."

"While your humbleness is admirable and a very attractive quality, especially in someone of your gender, in order to actually obtain new students for glee club we need to give them our best in order to impress them, and we can only do that by having the two most talented singers performing together."

Blaine fully turned to Mike, stomach clenching and face dropping in guilt. "But…"

Mike shook his head. "It's okay, Blaine," he said. "Everyone knows you're the better singer. Besides, I'll probably get a dance solo, so it works out."

Blaine stared at him for a moment, several emotions battling within him, trying to be noticed the most, mixing within him like a concoction in a pot. The guilt that continued to flow through his veins at the thought of potentially taking away an opportunity from Mike caused him to look downward. Wonder then made him flush at the mere notion that Mike was okay with everything and that he, in fact, agreed with Rachel that he was an expert singer. Then the butterflies in his stomach flittered again at the positive attention from his newfound crush, and the blush already dusting his cheeks darkened.

"Only if you're sure," Blaine said to him.

"Of course," Mike consoled him, patting his hand for a second, making Blaine look upward at him in shock at the contact.

Blaine gulped. "Thanks."

Mike nodded and withdrew his hand, then turned to look at Tina.

"Well, it's settled then," Rachel started in again. "We will do the duet, and Mike will have a dance solo. I'll discuss the set list with Mr. Schue before rehearsal, and Blaine, you and I will meet outside of rehearsal to practice for the rally on Friday."

Blaine nodded slightly, cringing a little bit as Rachel finally sat down and turned to Mercedes and everyone else began having their own conversations.

His heart was not really into doing this duet with Rachel. Sure, she was a very gifted performer, and she'd make a great duet partner, but with everything going on in his mind right now, he wasn't sure that he was in the mental space to sing at top notch.

Maybe this is what I need, he thought to himself. After all, he had sort of decided he wasn't going to come out just yet and ignore his issues, and if he was not thinking about his sexuality problems, doing something he loved would hopefully be an adequate distraction.

He felt a slight pressure on his shoulder, and he turned to Sam, who had just nudged him with his own. "You okay, dude?" he asked, concern etched onto his facial features.

Blaine sighed, but nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine."

"Next time, say that with less enthusiasm and maybe I'll believe you," Sam told him, sarcasm dripping from his voice. "What's wrong, man? Ellie flaunting her new boyfriend in your face?"

Blaine started. He didn't even notice anything about his ex anymore. And he didn't care. Sure, he had loved her and he had been very broken up by her departure, but at this point, he was over it, especially in light of his most recent epiphany.

He shook his head. "No. I didn't even know she had a new boyfriend."

Sam shoveled some mashed potatoes into his mouth. "Yeah. Karofsky, actually. She totally made Cheerios this year and I think she did it just for him. God, what does she see in him? So glad you got out of that one."

David Karofsky was one of the biggest bullies in school, both literally and figuratively. The guy was basically a tank. And his giant form constantly hovered over Blaine as he tossed a slushy in his face, laughing as he did so.

And now his ex was dating him. Huh. So Ellie was continuing on her path to shallow popularity. No real surprise there.

Blaine shrugged. "Yeah, I guess," he said quietly.

Sam looked at him. "Dude, you know you can tell me anything, right?"

Blaine sighed, knowing his friend meant well, but still not sure if this was really something that he could talk to him about. Despite being in glee, Sam was also on the football team. He could turn on him. Would he turn on him? Would he do it to not get attacked by his own teammates? Would he start calling him a 'fag,' too? Would he not want to hang out with him anymore? Would he start shoving him around in the locker room if he was under the impression that Blaine was trying to get a peek at him?

He nodded anyway. "Of course, man. I just…I think I'm just tired. Didn't sleep very well last night," he lied. Well, it was only sort of lie. He didn't sleep very well last night due to his brain rampaging him with thoughts about Mike and his own recently discovered sexual orientation.

"Okay, whatever you say."

The bell suddenly sounded, and the cafeteria began scrambling with students rushing to discard uneaten food and other such garbage. Blaine stood and lifted his tray, about to do the same thing, but saw Mike zipping up his black and red backpack while listening to Tina.

Still laden with guilt, he approached him. "Hey, Mike!" he called to him.

Mike's head swiveled in his direction, and nodded his head in acknowledgement. "Hey, Blaine, what's up? Congrats on the duet, by the way."

Blaine grimaced. "Yeah, about that," he began. "Look, I'm sorry Rachel said those things about you. Are you sure you don't want it? I can talk to her after rehearsal or—"

"Blaine, stop," Mike cut him off and put a hand on his shoulder, making Blaine gasp. "It's fine, really. You deserve it. You are extremely talented and you're the best guy singer in glee club. Heck, probably even the entire school." Blaine was stunned. Mike thought he was the best male singer in all of glee club? In the entire school? His heart was not really able to handle that information at the moment and possibly just skipped a beat or two. "And, bedsides, I'd rather have the dance solo anyway, something I'm better at for sure," he said, letting out a slight smile.

Blaine giggled softly. "Yeah, you're right about that."

"Stop worrying about it," Mike advised him as he shouldered his backpack. "Seriously, you're too nice for your own good. It's going to get you in trouble one day."

"Thanks, I guess. I'll keep that in mind."

Mike patted Blaine's shoulder. "Right. See you at rehearsal, man," Mike said before facing Tina again and walking out of the cafeteria with her.

Blaine stood there for a moment, and sighed, his heart still beating at what felt like the sped of light, and his stomach twisting with joy at the mere fact that he had just had a conversation with Mike. Mike who had just complimented him. Mike who he totally had the biggest crush on. Mike who was probably straighter than a ruler superglued to an arrow.

"Fuck," he groaned aloud before finally getting rid of his lunch leftovers and leaving the lunchroom.

God, he was screwed.

********************************************************

The rest of the school day went by uneventfully, and so did glee practice for the most part. They had decided on doing a couple numbers that they already had in their repertoire, seeing as the rally was only two days away and they didn't really want to learn something new (despite their apparently profound skill of being able to come up with stuff on the spot, as the year before someone had stolen their set list and Quinn had started going into labor). Blaine would still have to learn a new part, but it was a Katy Perry song that he was already very familiar with, so it wouldn't be too difficult for him.

The only major issue was that Mike was dancing, in tight fitting dance clothes leaving nothing to the imagination, and it was difficult to not look at him while he was doing it. He was super flexible and his muscles were glorious looking, seemingly sculpted to perfection. How did he get his body to look like that? How was he was just so incredibly good looking!

Blaine tried not to be obvious, looking away whenever he caught himself staring for too long, and was very quiet, traveling throughout his mind and speaking in one word syllables and only responding when spoken to.

Though, as he was normally a chatterbox and really enjoyed throwing out ideas, it was more than obvious that something was up, and people were starting to notice. Mercedes and Tina both eventually caught his eye, concern marring their faces and the question regarding his wellbeing in their eyes. Sam sat next to him, occasionally clapping his shoulder in an apparent manly attempt at consolation. Brittany just walked right up to him and hugged him, claiming that she understood that the alignment of the stars were not in his favor today, but next week Saturn will be out of retrograde and it's positioning will correlate with Pisces and bring him good fortune. Whatever that meant. Blaine had just hugged her back, give her his thanks and went back to rehearsal.

After practice, Blaine stood at his locker, twisting the lock to the correct numbers and opening it before he felt and heard someone lean against the locker next to him.

"Okay, seriously, dude. What's going on?" Sam asked him, is voice gruff and stern. "You've been all quiet and robotic, and not really doing anything in glee. That's so unlike you. Was it…was it something I did? Did I…I don't know, piss you off when I brought up Ellie or—"

"Sam, no," Blaine interrupted him, briefly glancing at him before turning back to cram some books in his knapsack. "I swear, it's nothing that you did, I promise. I just…it's me. I'm…" Blaine trailed off and sighed, rubbing his temples.

Blaine was suddenly surprised by how much he really wanted to tell him. Needed to tell him. This might have been a recent development in his life, but he felt it bottling up inside him, and he had to get it out. He needed to talk to someone to help deal with these feelings, these thoughts. It couldn't be healthy do deal with these things all by himself, and Sam was his best friend. He could talk to him, right? Right?

He wouldn't hate him. He couldn't hate him. They'd been friends since Sam moved here sophomore year, and Blaine stood by him when everyone else tossed slushies in his face and made fun of his social class. He was the only one who was there for him when his parents lost their jobs and the house. He helped take care of his siblings and let them stay over when his parents went out looking for new jobs.

And Sam…Sam was the one who dropped by in the middle of the night with pizza, ice cream and video games when his parents were gone on business trips and when Ellie had left him. He wouldn't leave him now, would he? After all they'd been through together?

"What, bro? What's with you man? Are your parents riding your ass again or something? Did you do really badly on that math test? Cuz, dude, you probably did better than me."

Tears began to gather from behind his eyes. He really…really hoped he wasn't going to regret this. "Sam," he began, voice catching in his throat. "If I told you something…personal…would you promise me to never tell anyone? Like, ever?"

Sam's eyes widened. "Dude, you didn't get anyone pregnant, did you?"

Blaine blinked, stunned by his question. "What? No!"

"Cuz I was gonna say, man, that's something you can't keep a secret for very long, and if you remember Quinn—"

"Sam, please! Do you promise me?"

"Dude, what is—"

"Promise me!"

"Okay! Okay, dude! I promise! Now what the hell is going on?!"

Blaine shut his eyes tightly, and a tear leaked out. His chest felt heavy, and he was breathing harder. He was shaking. His stomach was churning. He felt like he was going to throw up.

But he needed to get this out. He needed to tell Sam.

He didn't even open his eyes for his admission. "I have a crush on Mike."

Silence. No response. No noise but the ambiance of the lights buzzing with electricity and the soft sounds of their breathing.

Blaine took a deep breath and finally opened his eyes, only to see his best friend, feet rooted to the ground and staring at him in shock. They stood like that, for what seemed like hours, staring and breathing and tears leaking from Blaine's eyes.

Eventually Sam inhaled, and opened his mouth. "Mike…Chang?"

Blaine nodded, heart rapidly pounding within his chest with a battering ram. "Yeah. Mike Chang."

"So, are you, like…gay now, or something?"

Blaine looked to the ceiling, a couple tears escaping before doing so. "No," Blaine said as he wiped them from his face. "I, um…I think I'm bisexual…I…am bisexual, actually," he finally got out.

Sam looked puzzled. "…wait…you mean, like Brittany?"

Blaine nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, I mean like Brittany."

"So…you like dudes and ladies?"

"Yeah, Sam. I like dudes and ladies."

"Oh. Huh," he said, shrugging. "Okay."

That shocked Blaine. "Okay?"

"Yeah, dude. If you really think about it, that's actually pretty cool. There's, like, so many more options for you, ya know what I mean? You could, like, have sex with anyone if you wanted to!"

Blaine was pretty sure that that was not how it worked, but he was so surprised by his best friend's apparent acceptance that he didn't think to correct him. "So…you're really okay with this?"

"Yeah, man. I was okay with it when Brittany said it, and you're my best friend, so why would I not be okay with you?"

Blaine shrugged and looked down, still feeling a little on edge and insecure. "I don't know," he sniffled, wiping away some more tears. "I thought you'd be, like, grossed out and hate me."

"Aw, no, man," Sam told him, shaking his head. "I mean, I don't get it, but I'm not grossed out. And I could never hate you. I mean, unless you, like, murdered someone or something."

Blaine finally let out a chuckle, his chest lightening making it easier to breathe. "I promise I won't murder anyone, Sam. I don't think I could pull off a prison jumpsuit, anyway."

"I don't know, man," Sam began. "Stop putting truckloads of gel in your hair and you'd be surprised."

Blaine punched him lightly, but grinned at the banter. "Shut up, asshole."

Sam laughed, which caused Blaine to laugh, as well. It felt good. It felt good to have that release after stressing out and internalizing his struggles. Especially now that it seemed that Sam, who was practically family at this point, approved of him.

"Thanks, Sam."

Sam smiled, and patted one of Blaine's shoulders.

A relieved and happy tear escaped Blaine's eye, but he just sniffled and brushed it away.

"Come on, no more of that," Sam told him as he wrapped an arm around him and started to lead him out of the school. "Your parents are out of town, right? I think this calls for an extra long BioShock and pizza brofest."

Blaine grumbled. "Ugh, that sounds amazing, but I have to go to Rachel's tonight and practice the stupid duet for the pep rally with her.  
Sam let out a sympathetic groan. "Well, good luck with that one," Sam said. "Knowing her, she's just using this as an excuse to throw herself at you to get back at Finn."

Blaine tossed his head back in disgust. "Ugh, seriously, don't even joke about that! I have enough of my own shit to deal with, I don't need to be in the middle of her and Finn's on-again-off-again thing on top of it!"

Sam guffawed at his response. "I hear ya, man," he told him, reaching out to push the front door open. "But you know Rachel Berry; when she really wants something, nothing will get in her way. And if she wants to get back at Finn for ditching glee and getting back together with Quinn, she's gonna do it in the most theatrical and obvious way possible."

Blaine shook his head. "Unfortunately."

Sam finally removed his arm from around Blaine's shoulder and gestured to his right. "My car's right there. See you tomorrow?"

Blaine nodded, lips tightened and eyes downward.

"Hey, we're fine, dude. I promise," Sam reassured him with a smile at seeing the look on his face. "I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"

"Okay," Blaine told him before Sam gave one last wave and turned towards his car.

Blaine spun in the other direction, annoyed at the few tears that were leaking down his cheeks now. Tears that were both from fear for what he had just done, but relief, such relief, that he told his best friend and that things were alright with him and he hadn't gone running for the hills like he hoped he wouldn't have, but was terrified that he would.

*******************************************

Blaine sighed as he tossed his messenger bag onto his bed and sat down next to it, rubbing his hands over his face with a moan. He had just returned home from a grueling but not completely terrible practice at Rachel's house, and he was exhausted. It was good to get lost in the music and performance work for a while, even if it involved Rachel Berry directing his every move.

While Sam had not been right about Rachel, he certainly hadn't been wrong, either. Rachel did not throw herself at him like Sam had predicted, but he did notice her hands lingering on him when she grabbed his own or touched his shoulder, which was something that she didn't do often, if ever. He was surprised by it, really; subtly did not seem like a concept that Rachel Berry was familiar with.

He reached down for his satchel and had just pulled out his English book before he heard a two tone sound beeping from the pocket of his salmon colored pants. Blaine reached into it and pulled out his iPhone and looked down to read the text.

**Sam E:** _Dude, you need to go on Facebook right now._

Blaine frowned and drew down his eyebrows in confusion, but went over to his desk to turn on his laptop anyway.

**To Sam E:** Okaaaaaay, why?

**Sam E:** _Just do it. There's something you gotta see on there._

What? Blaine wondered as he sat down on his squishy black desk chair. What could possibly be so important—on Facebook of all things—that he needed to check on it now?

**To Sam E:** Did Rachel post a video of us singing together and has decided that we're dating now or something?

**Sam E:** _No. You'll know it when you see it._

Huh. Well, he was sure being cryptic, which freaked Blaine out a little bit. He finally logged onto Facebook and began taking a look at his news feed.

There wasn't anything too exciting yet. The only updates that really sparked his interest were Rachel making a passive aggressive statement about her relationship status (Blaine rolled his eyes at that) and Mercedes commenting that she may have successfully convinced someone to join glee club.

Highly unlikely, Blaine thought. The entire school knew that it was social status suicide to join the New Directions, so unless it was a new student or a freshman, there would probably be no new member.

And then he saw it. The one that Sam was talking about. The one that squished his heart and made his breath stop at the lump in his throat.

**Mike Chang is now In A Relationship with Tina Cohen-Chang.**

Blaine was crushed. Of course this would happen soon after he had discovered his feelings for the guy. Of course he would get a girlfriend because he was talented and smart and sweet.

And straight, Blaine reminded himself. And so very, very straight.

**To Sam E:** Fuck

He sighed, the backs of his eyes prickling just the smallest amount.

Stop it, you idiot! Blaine yelled at himself. You knew this wasn't going to end well!

And he did, in a way. He knew this had been coming. He saw it. He suspected that it would eventually. It was only a matter of time. Hell, even if he didn't start dating Tina so soon he figured Mike would never return his feelings. Not that Blaine would ever actually tell him about them anyway, which was another reason why Blaine felt that shouldn't be as hurt as he was.

But that didn't mean that he wasn't. That didn't mean that his heart didn't crack a little bit from the pain.

His phone beeped again with another text from Sam.

**Sam E:** _I'm so sorry, dude._

He took a deep breath, the ache only receding a little bit.

**To Sam E:** It'll be fine. I never had a chance anyway. I'll be okay.

**Sam E:** _You sure? Want me to come over or something?_

**To Sam E:** No. Don't worry about it. I'm okay, really.

Blaine inhaled and exhaled slowly, wiping away the tears that never escaped his eyes.

He really would be okay. He would. He knew that. But for right now all he could do was try to do his homework and mope over a boy that he will secretly be pining for and will never have.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heeeeeeeeeey, thanks to everyone who checked this out and left Kudos/Comments. I'm sorry I haven't updated in 500 million years. But to make up for it I have a super long chapter for y'all. Leave comments/Kudos? I'll give you e-hugs! :D 
> 
> Slight homophobic comments by the way, so warning warning warning.

Kurt lifted his black felt tipped pen and scribbled down a few notes on some lined paper from his blue spiral notebook, attempting his very best to be a good student during what was apparently the most boring lecture on the Renaissance imaginable. He loved history, and he always especially had been fascinated with this particular era, but Mr. Bleeker’s voice was drawling and Kurt could feel his body shutting down. It also didn’t help that he had already gone over a lot of this topic at his old school, so it was as if this class wasn’t even trying to get him to pay attention. 

His mind drifted to his newfound friend and her request that he join the school glee club. She had seemed very adamant about it, and really why shouldn’t he? He sure did love to sing. And dance. When he was a lot younger, he would have miniature performances for his parents, dressing up in his mother’s black stilettos and his father’s striped neckties while reenacting scenes and musical numbers from Disney movies. Afterwards, his parents would applaud and he would bow, basking in the approval. 

“Did you really like it?” Kurt would ask. 

“Of course, buddy,” his dad would tell him, while his mother rose from her seat, came over to him and gave him a big hug. 

“I loved it, baby,” she would whisper into his ear. “And I love you. No matter what. And don’t let anyone tell you that you can’t do what you love, because they don’t matter. Only you, okay?” 

It was things like that that made him wonder if his mother had known he was gay. 

Still, it was his mother’s reassurances that encouraged him to grow up with musical theater. Whether it be in school, summer camp, or the local children’s community theater, he did it all. From just having a small role in the chorus of ‘Oklahoma’ to having bigger parts like Winthrop Paroo in ‘Music Man’ or Skye Masterson in ‘Guys and Dolls,’ he did it. And he loved it so much. 

Even after a drunk driver took his mother from him when he was eight, he remembered her words and didn’t let the loss affect his love for singing and dancing. And even though he didn’t believe in any sort of deity or religion, he could practically feel her calming, loving presence every time he was on stage. It was…comforting, in a way, feeling his mother was there to support him, even if he couldn’t see her. 

Unfortunately, they didn’t really have a thriving arts program at the small, private high school that he went to his first year, surprisingly enough. Apparently, the school board thought that programs that focused on math and science were better to have, and arts programs be damned. Not to mention, his teachers assigned so much work that Kurt didn’t really have time for extra curricular activities. It was beyond frustrating. 

One time, however, Kurt had tried to arrange a variety show to bring the arts to the attention of his classmates and the staff. He had had a blank piece of computer paper taped to a wooden table outside the quad, begging for peoples’ names and emails in bright, purple sharpie. He performed karaoke to an instrumental recording of ‘There’s No Business Like Show Business’ in an attempt to draw participants. Most people glanced his way for a few seconds before rolling their eyes and walking away. A few people actually threw things in his direction. A couple times he heard the shouts of “faggot!”.

At the end of it all, not one name was on the list. 

And that was when he lost his passion. 

But now. Now maybe he could find that part of himself again. The part of himself that loved being on stage and appreciated the arts. And hopefully he would be around people that understood. 

Maybe people would actually like him and not want to hurt him just for being himself and loving the things that he did. 

Yeah, fat chance of that. 

That was only one of the reasons he was no longer a prep school boy. 

That was the main reason he sat silently in his classes and didn’t call people out on their stupidity when they completely missed the point of a question. That was the main reason he kept his extravagant fashion choices locked away in his closet. 

That was mostly the reason he stopped doing everything that he loved. 

And even though he was doing it to maintain his sanity, that reminded him that he let his mother down, which ripped him apart every single day. 

He felt something tapping the forearm of the fist that was currently supporting his head, knocking him from his crushing thoughts. He blinked and shook his head, not even realizing that he had been zoning out for thirty minutes. He looked downward at the direction that the tapping came from and noticed that it had been a small stack of blue papers. He took one piece and passed the rest of the stack behind him, and looked down to read “The Art of the Renaissance” at the top of the page. 

“Your projects are due in two weeks,” Mr. Bleeker began. “Your partner assignments are on the back of the rubrics. You have fifteen minutes right now to discuss with them which artist or musician you would like to research and present to your classmates. Off you go then!” 

The noises of the chairs scraping the floor commenced as Kurt flipped over the paper to see who he was to be working with. He skimmed the page until he noticed the black ink read ‘Kurt E. Hummel & Eleanor T. Hartley.’ Kurt was just trying to put a face to a name when someone suddenly occupied the recently vacated seat next to him. 

“Hi,” said an adorable looking, freckly faced redhead dressed in a Cheerios uniform. “Kurt?” 

“Uh,” Kurt stumbled with his words. “Yeah, hi.” 

“I figured you were you because you’re the only person I don't recognize. I’m Ellie, by the way,” she said as she held out her hand. “I’m your partner for this project thing.” 

“Oh, okay,” he said, secretly dreading the duration of the project. He’s had experiences with cheerleaders before, in junior high and even for the year of high school he was in private school. While only a few of them actually scribbled the word ‘fag’ on his locker with what he assumed was their cheap lipstick from Walgreens that they claim was designer, most of them just laughed at him while their football player boyfriends knocked books out of his hands or tossed him in dumpsters. Yeah, on a scale of 1 to not-really-pumped-about-this-at-all, Kurt was way past the latter. 

However, he would never claim to not be a gentleman, so he reached out a hand to return the shake. Her hand was soft and her grip was surprisingly firm, something he did not expect from the cheerleader. 

“So, I was thinking that everyone was probably going to want to do their project on people like Da Vinci or Michelangelo, so let’s try to find someone a little bit more obscure,” she began as she turned to a clean page in her notebook and brushed a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “Maybe we can find a musician so we can take up some presentation time listening to a recording?” 

Kurt was impressed. “Okay,” he nodded as he pulled out his textbook. “Let’s see if we can find one in the book here, and if not, we can look online later.” 

Ellie nodded as they flipped through the textbook together, discussing the pros and cons of which composer to do their research project on while they took notes. His new partner seemed like she was keeping up and knew what she was talking about, on occasion making some funny jokes and just in general seemed pretty sweet. Kurt was slightly ashamed of himself for judging her so harshly. His whole life, he’s been unfairly judged for being who he is, and now there he was, doing it to someone else. 

Well, he thought to himself, at least one of the cheerleaders here is nice. And smart. And not a total bitch who likes to bully people or gives a shit about high school social class. 

“Okay, so I don’t have time to meet after school today ‘cause of the pep rally, but I guess we can meet during lunch or something so that we can discuss things further and maybe do some research. Oh, and here,” she said as she jotted down something on a piece of paper with her pink mechanical pencil and ripped it from her notebook to give to him. “Here’s my number just in case we need to get in touch with each other.” 

“Oh, thanks,” he said as he took the paper scrap. “And, yeah, that sounds good.” 

“Great. Meet you in the computer lab by the choir room?” She asked as the bell rang. She flipped her notebook shut and began to gather up the rest of her stuff. “Usually I try to stay as far away from there as possible because I don’t want to be anywhere near the Glee club freaks, but what can ya do? It’s the only computer lab that’s not really supervised.” 

Aaaaaaand there it was, he thought as he sighed internally. The daily reminder that high school caste systems exist and that cheerleaders were the superior officers in the hierarchy of dumbassery while people like him were at the bottom of the food chain. Great. 

His smile was tight and didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Awesome,” he said as he, too, began to organize himself to get ready for next period, closing his book and shoving it into his bag. She gave him a small wave and took off with the rest of the class. 

He sighed deeply and tossed his bag over his shoulder. Walking out of the classroom he pondered about what makes a person, like his new project partner, seem so intelligent and then up and care about something so ancient and outdated like high school cliques. Maybe she had been bullied in middle school and thought joining cheerleading would fix it? Maybe all of her friends did it and mob mentality kicked in? Or maybe (dear lord, hopefully not) her home situation was not that great and being higher up in the social scale made her feel more important and loved? Kurt certainly hoped that was not the case. 

Kurt had just closed his locker and set about to go on his way to Chemistry when he felt himself being shoved hard into it by some massive force and fell to the ground, dropping his notebook along with himself. 

“Watch where you’re going, pretty boy!” shouted some douchebag in a red letterman jacket. The giant black guy began to stalk him further, and Kurt remained where he was, head down and staring and the beige tile floor, hoping that if he just stayed quiet, eventually the jock would just go away. 

“Leave him alone, Azimio!” came another male voice, one that sounded beautiful and absolutely graceful to Kurt’s ears. Almost musical. “He didn’t do anything to you.” 

The bigger guy retreated a bit from Kurt, but Kurt still didn’t look up. “He was in my way, Blanderson!” 

“Ya know, it seems like that’s been happening to you a lot more lately. Have you gained some weight? ‘Cause that might be why,” the other guy snarked at him. 

“What did you just say to me, queer?!” the boulder exclaimed and Kurt could hear the footsteps of him getting into the other guy’s space. 

“Guys, what’s going on here?” said a different male voice, one that sounded older. Maybe from a teacher? 

The letterman jock seemed to back off the other guy. “It ain’t nothing, Schue. Just going to class,” the giant said before walking off in the other direction. 

“You okay?” Kurt heard the (he assumed) teacher ask the second guy. 

“Yeah, thanks, Mr. Schue,” the guy with the really nice voice said. “I’ll be in class in a minute.” 

There was a pause, and Kurt could feel their stares baring upon him, but he refused to acknowledge them. Kurt heard a pat, and then footsteps walking away, before another set softly and cautiously approached him. 

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw knees covered by black slacks bend down and a hand reached over to his notebook. 

“Here,” the elegant voice said to him. Kurt finally lifted his head. 

And with that, he saw the most gorgeous sight to ever grace his vision. A beautiful, beautiful boy with olive skin and dark, slicked back hair with a few curls peeking out at the sides was there, the brightest and most kind hazel eyes looking down at him. Kurt was captivated, the boy’s eyes drawing him in like a siren’s call. He could almost feel an imaginary rope pulling him in, tying him tightly to this person and refusing to budge. 

The boy held out the notebook, and Kurt saw that his arms were very nicely toned, and he could tell that the rest of his body was also well built, even though it was covered by a dark purple polo. 

Kurt was stunned into silence, because he was pretty sure that he had just fallen in love with this boy. 

But that was crazy, of course! Kurt had never been in love before, so how in the hell would he know something like that? Not to mention love at first sight wasn’t even a thing! Or soul mates. Or “Mr. Right.” Right? 

Right?

“Sorry about Azimio,” the boy continued after Kurt finally took his notebook back, still kneeling down next to him. “He’s kind of an ass.” 

Kurt shook his head, finally removing himself from the trance that he had gotten into due to the lovely creature crouched down next to him. He snickered at the boy’s comment. “Yeah. Thanks,” he finally uttered, taking the notebook back. 

The boy grinned at him before holding out his hand. “My name’s Blaine,” the boy told him. 

Kurt looked down at the hand. This seemed to be a pattern this week. Maybe he would actually make friends this year. “K-Kurt,” he told Blaine and reciprocated the hand shake. 

Blaine. 

Wow. Even his name was beautiful. 

And his hands. They were soft and strong, certainly larger than his own, and maybe a little bit calloused at the tips. Was he an athlete? Did he play basketball? Or maybe he was a musician? Did this boy play guitar or something? Because that would be perfect. 

Too perfect. 

“I’d love to stay and chat, but I’m almost late for Spanish. See you around?” 

Kurt prayed to God, Allah, Buddha, Zeus, the Flying Spaghetti Monster and whatever other potential deity that he could think of that may or may not even exist to please, PLEASE let him see this guy again. 

“Yeah. Sure,” was all he managed to get out. 

Blaine smiled at him once more before reaching out and slightly squeezing Kurt’s shoulder (which most certainly sent really nice tingly feelings all throughout Kurt’s body). “Bye, Kurt,” he said as he got up and walked off to, presumably, his Spanish class. 

Kurt was stuck for the moment. His heart was racing. He felt like he lost his breath. His mind was lost. He couldn’t move and he had no idea what was happening. 

Sure, he had been rescued in the hallway before by (very few…too few) people who seemed nice enough in middle school, junior high and even freshman year. For some reason, however, and he didn’t know why, but he could feel that Blaine was different. He knew next to nothing about him, but somehow he felt…something…with him. 

He had a feeling that that boy had the potential to make his life wonderful. 

He also had a feeling that that boy had the potential to destroy him. 

The bell rang for the second time, alerting Kurt that he was about to be late for Chemistry. 

And for multiple reasons, Kurt thought to himself…

 _Shit._

***************************************

Kurt scrolled through one of his favorite fashion blogs on tumblr in the computer lab, admiring the impeccably crafted dresses and occasionally commenting on some of the menswear. Ellie had not yet shown up to begin research on their project, but Kurt was thankful that he had this time for himself so he could catch up on some of the latest fashions while he waited for her. He may have had to hide his love of stylish clothes in order to maintain his sanity at school, but he was certainly thankful that the internet allowed him to continue to pursue the things he enjoyed. It allowed for anonymity, which was something he certainly needed and appreciated while he was at McKinley High. 

Kurt put a forkful of salad into his mouth from the tupperware container next to the desktop he was using. He knew that he technically was not supposed to be eating or drinking in the lab, but as Ellie pointed out before, this lab was not really supervised all that well, it was lunchtime and he was hungry. He had just finished chewing when the door opened and Ellie walked in, her red, white and black matching Cheerios backpack over her shoulder. 

“Hey, sorry I’m late,” she said as she pulled out the chair next to him and sat down. “Apparently Coach Sylvester wanted an emergency meeting ‘cause of the pep rally later today. Wanted to monitor our time and meals and everything. Woman’s insane, but she’s a pretty good coach.” 

Kurt had heard things about the woman, and not very pleasant things either, but he did not really want to get into it at the moment, so he just opened up a new tab on his internet browser to open up Google. 

“Wait, was that Michael Kors?” She asked as she pointed to the computer. 

Crap! Kurt thought to himself. Busted. “What, this?” he asked tentatively as he clicked back to the tumblr blog he was on. 

“Yeah,” she said as she stared at the gorgeous black, ruffled silk-chiffon halter dress that he had previously been admiring. “Wow, that is so pretty. Are you thinking of getting that for someone? A date for winter formal, perhaps?” She wondered, raising her eyebrows suggestively. 

Kurt shifted nervously in his seat. How was he supposed to answer this without completely outing himself? Would she figure it out? Did he care if she did? Maybe this would be her test, to see if she really was smarter than he thought she was. “No,” he began. “I kind of just…like looking,” he told her as a compromise to himself. If she guessed it, then she did. If not, well, then she was maybe a little bit oblivious. Or perhaps she just didn’t buy into gay stereotypes, and wouldn’t THAT be a shock. “Besides, it’s a little out of my price range,” he added. 

“I hear that,” she said. “I would have to start saving money yesterday in order to wear something like that to Senior Prom, and that’s next year for me,” she lamented. “I guess I’ll just settle for a cheap dress at Forever 21 or something like that, as long as it’s super bright and has sequins.” 

Kurt scoffed. “Sequins? Really? That’s so tacky. And a super bright dress is not going to do anything for you, especially with your hair color,” he said, waving his hand in her direction. “Since it’s a brighter orange than a red, I’d go for a dark green or purple dress, maybe even brown to bring out the color of your eyes. And everyone’s probably going to be wearing satin, so I’d go with Chiffon. It’s a lot more subtle, easier to move in, and not to mention a lot cheaper. I’d even design it for you myself if I could get my hands on some fabric, but it seems as if that’s not in the cards for me right now.” 

He looked over at her, and she was staring at him, seemingly stunned, but maybe also a little bit pleased. 

He cringed a little bit. “I’m sorry. Too much?” he asked her. 

She giggled and shook her head. “Nope. Not at all,” she said as she turned to her computer to finally pull up an internet search browser. “You were so reserved earlier. It’s actually kind of nice to get a peek at your real personality now.” 

Kurt’s eyes widened, shocked once again by her apparent sweetness. “Thank you,” he said sincerely, to which she responded with a smile. 

They worked on their presentation for a while, constructed a general outline for their power point and did some more research before eventually deciding on a musician. 

“Whew!” Ellie exhaled out, finally putting her stuff down. “Thank god we’re done with that for now. Oh, and look,” she said, pointing to the time on the computer screen. “We still have about ten minutes left before next period! Sweet!” 

And with that she got rid of the Google search she had just been doing and brought up Facebook, while Kurt clicked back to his tumblr fashion page. 

Kurt was just commenting on the new fall Vera Wang line when Ellie let out an “Oh…my god.” 

Kurt paused in his movements, eyebrow raised and not really sure if he wanted to know what she was freaking out about. “What?” he responded anyway, skeptically. 

“Apparently, Santana Lopez and Noah Puckerman just broke up. Again. Even though they totally hooked up and got back together, like, last weekend,” she told to him, as if this was the most relevant thing since the Berlin Wall came down in 1989. “That’s insane, but ya know what? They should probably just stay together and, like, be swingers or something. They’re perfect for each other ‘cause they’re both, like, super slutty,” she explained, her voice dripping with judgement and superiority. “Seriously, I think Santana has slept with, like, almost every guy in the entire school, and I hear that Puckerman cleans neighborhood pools just so he can go after cougars. Like, ew, that’s so disgusting!” 

Kurt had not even the slightest idea of who either of those people were, and now that she mentioned those things, he’s pretty sure he didn’t want to. “Okay,” he said nonchalantly, turning back to the gorgeousness of the Vera Wang line on his Apple screen. 

“I wonder how Finn Hudson feels about this,” she went on, as if Kurt had indicated that he wanted her to continue speaking about whatever she was rambling on about. “I heard he had sex with her last year before he got with Rachel fucking Berry of all people when they were in Glee club. Like, lost his virginity sex.” 

There was a pause in the conversation, and Kurt turned to see her looking at him as if she expected Kurt to respond with shock and awe and a need to know more. All he could manage was a half assed “Really?” 

“Yeah. Apparently they managed to keep it a secret for a while until Rachel found out and started crying and screaming about it for the whole school to hear. She broke up with him because of it. Over something that happened last year! Seriously, fucking theater and glee freaks need to cut the drama. Like, no one cares about their shit.” 

_Says the one who’s continuing to gossip about it,_ Kurt thought to himself. 

“Geez, I bet they’re all, like, so glad that they’re done with Glee now,” she continued as she scrolled down her Facebook newsfeed. “With all the drama and bullshit, it must have been just completely intolerable. Especially if it involved Rachel Berry. Ugh, my ex-boyfriend is in the glee club! Yeah, I’m, like, super relieved I got out of that one.” 

Before either of them could comment any further, the bell signaled for the next period, and Kurt had never been more thankful for a loud, disruptive noise in his entire life. She waved at him before lifting her backpack around her shoulders, and he gave her a feigned grin before doing the same. 

Good lord, what was up with that girl? She was super nice and sweet and complimenting him one minute and then being awful and judgmental and tearing people apart the next. This chick clearly had some issues and once this project was over, Kurt did not want to be a part of it. 

And what was her deal with the Glee club? Kurt had heard that the glee club was not the most popular, but the way she spoke about it with such vitriol made him wonder if she had some sort of vendetta against it. She did mention her ex-boyfriend was in it. Perhaps they had a really bad breakup? Did he cheat on her with someone in Glee? Or did glee just get in the way of them being able to hang out?

Kurt rolled his eyes and shook his head. Why did he even care in the first place? It’s not like he would meet this ex-boyfriend anyway. Unless he did decide to join Glee. But even then, it didn’t matter. 

“Hey,” he heard from his right, and saw Mercedes had come to walk beside him. “I’m soooo glad we have a short day because of the pep rally today. My brain is shot to all hell and I for reals don’t think I could stand to be in French for very long, to be honest.” 

Kurt chuckled as they reached his locker and he began to twist the lock for his combination. “Hey, I’m just glad I don’t have to listen to a blathering cheerleader any more right now. I have one for a history project and she just spent the last ten minutes moaning about people from Glee.” 

Mercedes groaned and rolled her eyes. “Ugh. That sucks. Who?” She wondered. 

“Ellie Hartley,” Kurt told her as he pulled out the books from his previous classes from his bag to return to his locker. 

Her eyes widened and she groaned again in sympathy. “Oh, my god, I am so sorry. She is such a bitch. She was dating one of the guys from Glee last year and then totally dumped him ‘cause some jock asked her to prom,” she explained her voice laced with contempt. “Seriously, he’s one of the nicest guys in the universe and she just ditched him because he’s in Glee. I felt so bad for him, too. He was completely in love with her. Oddly enough, she was cool while they were together, but then just out of nowhere she did a complete 180, dropped him for some douchebag footballer and became a giant asshole. I seriously don’t get her.” 

Kurt snickered. “Preaching to the choir here,” he told her. “It’s so weird. She seemed really smart when we were talking about our project, and she was really nice to me, actually, but the minute she started talking about other people, she turned into this judgmental harpy. Like, what is her deal?” 

Mercedes rolled her eyes again. “She probably just thinks it’ll get her more popularity points if she has a gay bff,” she explained casually as Kurt was just about to shut his locker. 

Kurt froze upon hearing the ‘gay bff’ comment, panicked thoughts flooding his conscious. How did she know? Did everyone know? Was he really that obvious? Did he just have massive, bright Broadway lights shining in his direction that flashed “GAY!” every two seconds? How? How did she know? He’s tried so hard, though. He was trying so hard not to be a walking, talking gay stereotype, and yet people knew anyway. GOD, what was he doing wrong? How could he be so STUPID to think that he could hide it?! 

“Kurt?” Mercedes said, breaking him from his mind. “You okay?” 

“Is it really obvious?” he softly questioned her. 

Her brows furrowed in confusion. “Is what obvious?” 

“That I’m gay,” he practically whispered, looking around to make sure that no one heard him. “Is it really that obvious that I’m gay?”

Mercedes paused for a moment, appearing to honestly contemplate her response. “Not necessarily,” she told him. “Not just from looking at you. I guess…once I got to know you a little bit more, I just assumed.” 

Kurt took a deep breath and nodded. Great. 

“I’m sorry,” Mercedes apologized. “I didn’t mean to assume.” 

“It’s fine,” Kurt said as he closed his locker. “It’s just…things have happened to me before. I mean, I’m out, and I don’t want to go back in the closet. I’m okay with who I am, and if people ask me, I’ll tell them. I just…I want it to be on my own terms, ya know?” he explained. 

She nodded. “I get it,” she said as she reached out to him and grabbed an upper arm of his. “Don’t worry, boo. Your secret’s safe with me.” 

Kurt exhaled, relieved. “Thank you.” 

The warning bell sounded, instantly alerting them to their impending tardiness. Mercedes grinned at him, before squeezing his arm and looping hers through his. “Come on, sweetie,” she said as she began to drag him to class. “Let’s get the rest of the day over with. Maybe our performance will finally convince you that you need to join Glee.” 

Kurt chuckled and shook his head. “Maybe. We’ll see.” 

**************************

The gym was surprisingly packed considering the amount of people Kurt had seen leaving the school to ditch the rally. He never did understand what the hype for homecoming was about. Neither school spirit nor sports were Kurt’s thing, even though football involved boys wearing tight pants, patting each other on the ass and passing around balls to each other. He chuckled to himself, thinking about how ironic it was that athletics were generally incredibly homophobic, but there was so much gay eroticism. It was kind of amusing. 

He and Mercedes had to part ways once they reached the gym because she was going to be performing, so Kurt was sitting all by his lonesome on the wooden bleachers near the front. They’d already gone through introducing all the other sports teams, discussing student council announcements, having hyped up school spirit speeches and tasteless skits condemning and ridiculing the opposing school’s team. It was when the Cheerios were in the middle of their routine that Kurt was seriously deliberating just getting up and leaving out of sheer boredom. But Kurt did tell Mercedes that he would watch their performance to decide if he really wanted to join the glee club, and he did want to support his friend regardless of that, so he stuck it out anyway. 

Applause broke out as the cheerleaders concluded their number, some of them in a pyramid, some of them doing extra flips and clapping, and others standing on the shoulders or hands of the select few male cheerleaders. He noticed that his history partner was on her hands and knees at the bottom, and a small but sinister part of him secretly hoped that that meant that it was a figurative representation of her status within the Cheerios. For the most part he was good at containing his inner bitch, but from what he’s heard of her so far, he did not feel bad about feeling this way. 

The applause died down as the principal, an older, balding Indian man by the name of Mr. Figgins, stepped up to the microphone. “And now for the event we’ve all been waiting for,” he began, his voice accented. Kurt heard several groans throughout the gymnasium, which to him seemed to reflect the opposite of what Mr. Figgins had said. “Let’s give a warm round of applause for the New Directions!” He shouted excitedly. A small smattering of polite applause resounded, probably as uninterested as everyone else, save for Kurt who was actually looking forward to seeing his friend perform. 

Curtains lifted and background a cappella voices began singing the beat to a song that Kurt recognized as Katy Perry’s ‘Firework.’ Six bodies then showed up on stage, one of them in a wheelchair, all wearing outfits of white, black and red. He saw Mercedes in the direct middle, standing in between an Asian boy and a tall blonde girl in a Cheerios uniform. Interesting, Kurt thought to himself. Why would someone who is a cheerleader be in something as frowned upon as the glee club? 

He didn’t have much longer to think about that as a short brunette walked onstage and began to sing the opening lyrics of the song. He had to admit she was very good; her tone was magnificent, her enunciation and projection were superb, and she had a profound stage presence. Man, if everyone in the glee club was as good as she was, he would definitely have a bit of a challenge, which would be good for him. Maybe he should join. 

And then the music changed slightly, the background vocals switching to what Kurt realized were the opening beats to Katy Perry’s other song ‘Teenage Dream.’ And from backstage, out popped the gorgeous boy who had been his savior earlier that day: Blaine. 

Oh lord. 

He was looking incredibly dapper. He had changed his purple polo to a red one to match the rest of the choir, and he now sported white suspenders with musical notes on them and a red, white and black striped bow tie. He seemed to have fixed his hair, as now it appeared that there were no misplaced curls. 

God, he really was the most exquisite thing Kurt had ever seen. 

Then Blaine opened his mouth and began to sing, and his voice…his voice was just enchanting. It was so smooth and warm, his rich tenor reminding Kurt of a soothing cup of tea with honey. He was charismatic and his smile was infectious. He looked very at home up there, so confident and like that was exactly what he wanted to do and exactly where he wanted to be. 

If Kurt hadn’t been drawn to this boy before, he most certainly was now. 

Blaine stepped back for a bit, and the Asian boy Kurt noticed from earlier moved upstage and began performing some very intricate dance moves, but Kurt barely noticed as he continued to stare at the perfect boy the entire dance break. 

The small brunette from before, as well as Blaine, returned to the center of the stage after the dancing Asian boy was done to finish their Katy Perry mash up, and once it was over Kurt leapt from his seat, clapping as loudly and as quickly as he possibly could.

Kurt could vaguely tell that the rest of the audience were applauding as well as the show choir took a bow. He noticed that Blaine was breathing heavier as a result of performance adrenaline and exertion—which, if Kurt really stopped to think about it, was kind of hot. Blaine then turned his hazel eyes in Kurt’s direction, and he smiled wider, making them shine brighter then ever, causing him to look that much more magnificent. That was what made the decision for Kurt. 

If it meant he got to be around this guy all the time, even just to look at his handsome, perfectly sculpted face, then oh, hell yes! He was most definitely joining Glee.


End file.
